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*******
nothing's sadder than a rose plucked before her time her petals crushed and bruised and separated from the vine a rose is a flower singular and wild a rose is a flower driven as a climbing child keep her in the sunshine offer her up some rain gently till the earth beneath her her simple beauty's much to gain for nothing's sadder than a rose plucked before her time her petals crushed and fallen and separated from the vine keep her in the garden offer her up your love minister to her tender roots she is fragile as a dove for nothing's sadder than a rose plucked before her time her blood-red petals crushed and broken and separated from her vine. ******* I woke up with all of this in my head this morning. I thought it ought to be written down. LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM MONDAY OCTOBER 1 2018 6:10 AM PST TIME/DATE STAMPED AND ALSO FOR THIS AUTHOR/POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD Vote for this poem
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